


When in Midgard

by manic_intent



Series: When in Midgard [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-27
Updated: 2011-10-27
Packaged: 2017-10-25 00:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the 5 Acts meme, act: "body marking"</p>
            </blockquote>





	When in Midgard

Possibly the best thing about bedding a Norse God was the stamina; the second best thing in Tony's books would be Thor's unhesitating, good-natured willingness to try anything and everything. Sometimes this led to unexpected hilarity, but usually, and nearly every night, Tony would be pressed up someplace, horizontal, vertical, Thor's chest, it didn't matter, taking Thor's nice, big cock like he was starving for it and screaming his own throat hoarse.

Life was  _good_  in the Avengers.

Usually, by the time he woke up, Thor would already have wandered off to consume a relentless amount of eggs and pancakes, gotten high on sugar and coffee (who would'a thought) and possibly, ambled away to create some sort of minor property damage, but today, Tony rolled over against an unyielding, warm bulk, and cracked one eye blearily open.

The painkillers had worn off, and the arm that he had in a cast was hurting like a bitch, and Tony scrabbled over for the bedside table and managed to pour out the correct dosage of pills, washing them down with a cup of water. Other than the arm, he felt nice and fuzzy and fucked out, and he stretched gingerly and yawned, waiting for his brain to kick back into gear.

"Something wrong?" Tony asked finally, when Thor said nothing. "Banner broke something? Cap fought with Clint? Dr Doom?" You could always count on Doctor Doom to ruin nice mornings.

Thor held up a hand, and it took Tony a moment to focus on the magic marker held carefully in his big fingers. "Clint said that this was a custom of your people."

The magic marker was  _pink_. Tony squinted. "Wha?"

"To inscribe text on your rudimentary medical implements." Thor declared, clearly happy with himself for Understanding Another Midgardian Custom. Thor had simple pleasures. Sometimes Tony intensely envied him.

"I don't understand what you're... oh. You want to write on my cast." That was another good thing about Thor - he didn't freak out about injuries and start trying to coddle Tony. Coddling was  _boring_ , unless there was comfort sex involved, and Thor managed that splendidly without the nagging and bitching. "Sure. Go ahead. But must it be pink?"

"It is a celebratory color," Thor's brilliant puppyish smile faltered a fraction. "Or does it mean something else in your culture? I see many Midgardian women arrayed in this hue."

"No. Pink is great. I like pink." Tony's stomach had flipped a little at that, and he didn't quite want to look into his Issues first thing in the morning after a night of riding Thor until his thighs gave out. "Shoot. I mean, start. Inscribing," when Thor looked around, presumably for a projectile weapon.

Tony wasn't sure what Thor was going to write - did Gods sign their name or something, that would probably be worth a fuck ton of cash to any mythology museum - but instead of a signature, or some heartily inappropriate message, Thor began to draw angular little letters in a neat row down the white cast, and it took Tony a moment to realize that yes, of course, Thor wasn't going to write in  _English_.

"Runes," Tony said, a little incredulously. " _Pink_  runes."

Thor nodded - his face was furrowed and his entire body was tense, as though he was calculating a Mjolnir trajectory rather than writing whatever it was on Tony's arm.

"Are you writing your name or something?" Tony asked, after another couple of minutes, because he was having to sit still and his curiosity was going into overdrive.

"I am writing the story of your injury," Thor said matter-of-factly, because apparently this made sense in Asgard.

"In  _pink_." Because yes, this was Tony's life, lately, and after another couple of minutes, Tony gave up to inevitability. Besides, if he tried to pull away too quickly he might lose the arm; Thor had a grip that could weld metal. Eventually, Thor capped the Magic Marker and carefully put it aside; Tony looked down over three surprisingly neat lines of angular, alien script, with a critical eye. "Actually, this is cool," he admitted, after a long moment, and Thor grinned broadly at him. If Thor was a golden retriever puppy, he would be wagging the fuck out of his tail right now.

"Good! Breakfast." Thor decided, spreading his arms, palms out. Thor did nothing in subtle gestures. Tony liked that.

"Usually, though, people sign their names on this thing," Tony added dryly. "Not that I'm criticising the epic in pink runes of how I got thrown through a building and mangled by a souped up Doombot."

"Why would you fix your sigil onto something impermanent?" Thor asked, genuinely puzzled.

"It's custom?" Tony hazarded. "You mean, you never sign - or sigil, whatever - your name in Asgard?"

"Names have power." Thor said solemnly. "Where we fix our sigil, there must be meaning. Time, and place."

"I'll like to see that," Tony said, without thinking - he was like that Before Coffee - and then added, when Thor tilted his head at him, "Well, not like I'm advocating anything or whatever and I'm not sure what Fury got you to 'affix' to those forms I had to go through when I signed up for this gig, but..." Tony's voice trailed off at the warm fingers pressed over the nape of his neck, big and heavy, and swallowed hard as Thor squeezed gently, then shifted over to sit behind him.

A thumb pressed firmly over his skin, where Tony's hair was still short and spiky, over the back of his neck, in an angular shape that felt like a 'P', then crossed over the ridge of bone, in a crossed letter that felt like a diamond with a crossed tail, then finally, a sharp-beaked 'R'. Lips brushed over the first bump of the back of his spine, and Tony let out all the breath that he didn't realize that he had been holding in a rush.

This should not have been as hot as it was. "Breakfast can wait, I hope?" Tony asked, as casually as he could and only managing to sound desperate, and Thor laughed behind him, deep and rumbling, big hands hooking carefully around his waist and pulling him back.

**Author's Note:**

> okay, I'll stop spamming you guys with shortfic now. ;o


End file.
